


by any other name

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - House Swap, Different Houses, Flirting, Gen, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Slash, Robb Stark is a Gift, Seaworth!Theon, Siblings, Tarth!Robb, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, house swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: In which being born in different houses doesn't stop neither Robb or Theon from Being Meant To Be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this fic was written for a prompt on tumblr for Robb appreciation month which was basically swapping houses and I was like 'WHAT OTHER HOUSE DO I PUT HIM IN WAAAAIT HE AND BRIENNE WOULD BE BFFS HE CAN BE TARTH' and I came up with the graphic *and* the backstory, then someone asked where I'd houseswap Theon and I said of course SEAWORTH IT WOULD BE ARE WE SRS, some anon asked 'but what if this Robb and this Theon met each other' and I wrote the second part. HERE YOU GO HAVE THIS NONSENSE. Idk if I'll add to it in the future but meanwhile here it is for the part where I Repost Stuff From Tumblr Before It Kills Itself.
> 
> Also: the title is obv. from Shakespeare, they don't belong to me and I'll saunter back downwards. Expect a few other reposts in the next few days /o\

                                                       

 

Brienne does not begrudge her lord father when he chooses to marry again, even if she does not particularly take to his new wife. Lady Lysa does not take kindly to her as well - she ignores her entirely, for the entire year she spends at Evenfall Hall. She dies giving birth, and Brienne doesn’t hear whispers in between the maester and the maids about how it was queer that it happened - she seemed healthy and she was young, after all. Brienne wouldn’t know. What she knows is that she has a sibling again - she barely remembers Galladon, and she never really knew her sisters. They died too young. Her half-brother has his mother’s hair and eyes, but Father says that they’re the same blue as hers. Brienne figures that he’s right. Father names him Robb after the new king. Brienne hopes that she can be a sister to  _him_ , at least, as she couldn’t be to every other of her siblings.

\--

Lord Selwyn does not remarry a third time.

\-- 

Brienne is eight when her four-year old half-brother finds her weeping in front of her mirror. He asks what’s wrong. Brienne doesn’t look at him when she whispers what Septa Roelle told her before. She’s entirely sure that no four-year old should look  _that_  angry when she’s done. And while the damage is done and Brienne will never think of herself as pretty or take any man’s compliment to her looks at face value, she does believe it when the next day she hears him go up to Septa Roelle and tell her that his sister is indeed the prettiest girl he knows and she should feel ashamed about telling her the contrary.

\--

When it’s obvious that  _she_  is the best at sparring and sword fighting out of the two of them, she doesn’t know what to expect.

Knowing him, she should have expected Robb to say that he’ll be glad the day he beats her, and she shouldn’t dare letting him win.

\--

Robb grows up gallant and beautiful and everything her father could have dreamed of in an heir. Still, he keeps on trying to find her a good match. Brienne isn’t much hopeful when she’s told about Ronnet Connington. She hates that she’s about to cry when he throws that rose at her.

“Ser,” Robb interrupts, “I think that if that’s the way you should talk to  _my sister_ , you’re better off leaving now.”

Father doesn’t correct him. That evening, Brienne tells them both that the next one who wants to marry her, has to best her in a sword fight. Robb laughs and says that he’d like to see that happen. Father has to agree and then says that after all if  _she_  doesn’t marry someone who wouldn’t want her in the first place it’s not that big a matter.

\--

“Are you sure about this?” Robb asks her as she gets ready to leave.

“I am,” Brienne says. Renly Baratheon called the banners and pathetic as it might be, she can’t  _not_  go, not when he has been the only man not related to her who’s ever danced with her or made her feel like she wasn’t some kind of freak of nature. “I know it’s what I was born for.”

“I wasn’t trying to stop you. I wouldn’t dream of it. Just come back with at least some five songs written about you, or I shall be very disappointed.” He’s smiling as he tells her that, and she remembers the times he told her that if she kept on being that good a knight she’d end up in a few of the songs that were played in Evenfall Hall all year round.

“I shouldn’t want to disappoint you,” she says, smiling back. As she steps on the boat, she intends to keep that promise.


	2. Chapter 2

When Robb receives the audience request, he  _knows_  what it is for at once, and he wishes that Father hadn’t decided to let  _him_  handle that because ‘ _if you’re going to be the next Evenstar, and I know you will, I cannot exactly take decisions that_ you _would hate me for_ ’. Which is actually fair, but he had liked staying neutral after Renly died and he’d have liked to keep on staying neutral.

Except that if someone from House  _Seaworth_  wants an audience, he can only imagine why they would. Still, he’s met Lord Davos at a few feasts and when he visited Tarth once - he was perfectly nice and courteous and Robb has only admiration for someone who managed to raise themselves up that high starting from nothing.

He writes back to the raven he received and says that he would be more than glad to fulfill an audience request.

So, he knew that Lord Davos had four elder sons and four ones on the younger sides, and he knew that the former all died at Blackwater - poor man, Robb thinks, shuddering -, so this one,  _Theon_ , has to be the first of the survived ones. He doesn’t expect anyone to come for at least one moon, though. Instead, he’s warned that a visitor is here barely two weeks after he receives an answer.

Robb tells the guard that he’ll be down shortly and when he’s finally in the main hall,  _Theon Seaworth_ is waiting for him.

He’s not surprised to find himself in front of someone who must have at most three or four years on him -  _Theon_  is wearing a  _good_  tunic styled all in black and gray with a small onion embroidered on a shoulder, but it also looks comfortable, not just fancy. Like clothes someone could travel in. The bottom is indeed covered in dust, Robb notices. Other than that, Theon Seaworth is  _certainly_  a sight - tall, apparently well-built under his tunic and cloak, with dark hair that’s maybe  _slightly_  too long for someone who’s related to a  _Hand of the King_ , but who is Robb to judge?, eyes as dark as his hair and skin tanned in the way people who are on ships a lot tend to have.

“Ser,” Robb says, coming in, “welcome to Evenfall. I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“No  _ser_ s,” Theon says, smirking ever so slightly, and - right. The man  _does_  have a very easy  _nice_  smile, Robb thinks. “As my father likes to say, you should earn titles. Given that for now I’ve just gone around the Stormlands trying to find a few alliances, I don’t think I earned that yet. Also, I came with my own ship. It took me considerable less time.”

“You look confident that you might, though,” Robb can’t help saying. The man  _exudes_  confidence.

“I like to think that,” Theon says. “And I know that you most probably want me to tell you why exactly I am here.”

“Well, I never was too fond of protocol.”

“Good, neither am I. Can I assume that you think I will ask you to support King Stannis’s cause?”

“You would assume right. Then again, your father is his  _Hand_.”

“True, but - well. I am. But I also am not. See, I don’t think my lord needs to be briefed about what happened after Blackwater.”

“I know enough.”

“Then you know that the king and my lord father, may he never know I actually  _called_  him like that, went North.”

“I heard of that, yes.”

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to go around rallying for support. I volunteered, but - never mind. I wasn’t. And then I received a few ravens informing me of the situation, and I decided to take matters into my own hands. I informed them and no one has told me  _not_  to, which is enough of a reply - however, well, the Long Night is apparently upon us again.”

For a moment, Robb can’t process that - it was  _not_  what he had imagined.

“Wait - sorry,  _the Long Night_?”

“The ravens confirmed me that white walkers have been seen beyond the Wall. Some of the brothers of the Night’s Watch have killed a few and there’s ample proof of it. Over there, of course. They don’t have half the men they need, no one is answering their requests and given what happened in the North during the war they certainly will not get enough from nearby areas.”

Robb shudders - indeed  _given what happened in the North_. The only son of Ned Stark’s who was of age when his father was killed in King’s Landing was his  _bastard_  son and he had been about to take his vows, and before he could go back or plan to do anything about it, a few traitorous Northern houses had conquered Winterfell. One of his sisters is still prisoner in King’s Landing, the other is at large, the two younger boys managed to escape but are nowhere to be found. Jon Snow stayed at the Wall but never took his vows. Just in case, probably, Robb assumes.

Meanwhile,  _his_  sister hasn’t been seen since Renly’s death - Robb is sure that Brienne would  _never_  have killed her king and has refused to believe those rumors. He believes the ones saying that she ran away with Lady Stark, who had asked for shelter at the Baratheon camp, and might be making sure no one kills her before she can reach the Wall.

But Brienne can take care of herself, Robb wagers. Meanwhile, he looks at Theon again.

“I suppose they don’t. So, you’re asking for Tarth to support Stannis not because he’s  _Stannis_ , but because if when the Long Night comes the Wall is short of men we might  _all_  die without a chance?”

“That was exactly what I was asking you,” Theon replies. “Of course, since I wasn’t raised to lie, now this is the part where I tell you that no victory is guaranteed, that your men might not live and that they might not be enough, but given that I asked another  _four_  Houses already and all laughed in my face after professing to be sorry for  _my_  house’s loss, well, I was hoping you would be more reasonable.” The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly.

“Is this blunt sincerity a family trait or did Stannis somehow influence it?”

Theon laughs. “It’s a family trait, I’m afraid. There is a reason why my father and the king understand each other, I suppose.”

“I can see that,” Robb says, just because he can’t say  _I think I understand the appeal_. “Listen,” he says after taking a deep breath, “I might have tried to not take sides until now, but I know - king Stannis wouldn’t lie about this. And from what I know of your House, you wouldn’t either. Your father certainly never looked like the type. I imagine you brought the ravens in question.”

“Of course.”

“Well, then I think that we should both have an audience with _my_ lord father - I wouldn’t want to take such a decision without consulting him first. But I might be inclined to plead your case, ser -”

“No ser,” Theon interrupts him.

“And how am I supposed to call you then?”

“I think my name would do,  _my lord_.”

“Fine,  _Theon_ , but then that goes both ways.”

“Well then,  _Robb_ , I guess at least we have an understanding.”

Robb looks at him in the eyes, and underneath the fact that he’s smiling - Theon  _does_  look deadly serious.

“I think  _we_  do. And after we discuss more serious matters, I think I should like to see how you came all the way here - I can appreciate someone who doesn’t wait for others to act.”

“Are you asking me if you could see your admittedly beautiful island from  _my_  ship?”

“Sure, but just so that it’s clear, I  _can_  handle being on ships. My sister and I were taught that, we live on a  _beautiful island_ after all.”

“My Lord - my apologies,  _Robb_ , I think it should be my pleasure.”

 _No_ , Robb thinks,  _I have a feeling that it should be mine_.

 

End.


End file.
